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Home | Simon Ghost Riley x m!reader

anonymous asked: “The world will never know another man as amazing as you”with ghost please? Really love your writings and this giant of a man

summary: there's only one thing on Ghost's mind, and when he finally gets it, he's the happiest man in the world.

tws: swearing

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Home.

The only thing that had been on Ghost's mind since he was told that the task force's job was done, finally able to go back home and to go back to the man he loved; he was fucking relieved, to say the least. Those stuck up yank bastards the task force was put with wouldn't understand, they were all glory chasers who had no idea about humanity; they mocked him every time he mentioned to Gaz or Price or Johnny that he was fucking glad to be going home.

To his own husband.

Sleeping in his own bed. Drinking the coffee he liked most in the world, made by his husband. No more uncomfortable hammocks and bunks, no more coffee that tasted like shit, no more forced small talk; he could bury himself in his puzzle books and in games of solitaire at the dinner table for hours on end while you sat nearby and did your own thing, an easy peace sneaking through.

Home. He couldn't fucking wait.

Sitting on the plane for hours was torture, constant questions about his husband that he didn't want to answer being thrown his way by stupid yanks; he didn't understand why his personal life was of such interest, couldn't understand why they wanted to know what Ghost did with his husband behind closed doors.

He was glad when the plane landed and the pilot said everyone could get off at last; he practically ran off, pushing soldiers aside as he fought to get onto the tarmac.

At least the taxi ride home was quiet, though, only soft jazz music playing over the car radio; the driver didn't talk much, Ghost wondered if they had any idea how fucking thankful he was for that. They asked him a few questions - where he was from, what he did for work, where he had come from.

The usual stuff anyone would expect of a cabbie, really; Ghost answered politely, but didn't give them too much information. He asked to be dropped around the corner.

He fumbled with his keys for a second, but the second the door unlocked, he chucked his bag inside, leaving it in the porch as he pressed on towards the kitchen; you were exactly where he had expected you to be, and he didn't waste any time in creeping up behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder as he pulled you close and wrapped his arms around you, a heavy sigh coming from the back of his throat.

"Oh, thank fuck."

"I take it your flight didn't go well," you chuckled, quickly turning around and returning the embrace as tightly as you could, inhaling his scent.

Ghost shook his head, grumbling quietly as he kept you so close to his body that he almost worried he might suffocate you; but he needed it, he needed to feel his husband in his arms again, needed to smell your cologne, needed to feel the way you held him tightly, needed to hear your voice.

He needed you. More than anything and anyone, more than everything else, he needed you.

"You would've kicked off," he murmured. "An American kept hitting on me, even when I told her I was married and had no interest in women anyway."

You laughed, shaking your head as you dared to pull away enough to get a proper look at him; he looked exhausted and frustrated, like he was about to collapse at any moment or fall asleep exactly where he stood. "Yeah, I probably would've kicked off... you look tired, rhith."

Ghost nodded. "Knackered."

"Why don't you go take a nap?" You asked him softly. "Get some rest."

But he shook his head as he backed you up against the nearest surface, leaning into you and resting his weight on you as he sighed heavily. "Later, I just need you."

You were happy to oblige, getting up on the counter and spreading your legs so he could stand between them, resting his head on your shoulder as he yawned softly and hugged you closely. "Y'know, I missed you a lot."

"I know," he nodded. "Feelin's mutual."

You scoffed, resting against him as you hummed softly, closing your eyes and listening to him breathe for a moment; it was soft and shallow, the kind of breaths that came when someone was in a deep sleep, steady and calm. The way he breathed reminded you of rivers that swallowed the whispers of the wind and bathed in the sun with an olive coloured smile.

For a while, you both stayed like that, revelling in being together again and being close once more; making up for all the time you had missed one another far too much, familiarising yourselves with scents and feelings all over again. Wanting nothing more than to simply be close once again.

But then Ghost pulled away, looking up at you with a pleading gaze as he sighed heavily. "Can you make me a coffee?"

You nodded, grinning as you softly raked a hand through his hair. "I thought you'd never ask."

He stepped aside, letting you get down before he attached himself to your back, resting his chin on your shoulder as you went about making two cups of coffee; he was always so clingy when he came back from deployment and when he was about to leave. You loved that about him; the same as you loved the way he always cuddled into you at night and held you so close.

You didn't even think of handing it to him as he let go of you partially to grab the mug, chuckling softly when he realised what the design was; it was an older mug of yours, one that you had bought him for your first anniversary when you were only dating, long before your nikkah. It was his favourite.

It was black, with a print of a greyhound on it; you had gotten it from a charity who were doing a fundraiser and selling merchandise to raise money for ex-racing greyhounds who needed to be rescued and prevented from being abused further. Ghost always donated to the charity when he could, greyhounds were his favourite dog.

He sighed heavily, gently drumming his fingers against you for a split second. "Y'know, the world will never know another man as amazing as you."

You scoffed. "You're such a softie, y'know."

Ghost grumbled. "Only for you..."

Home.

He was finally home, and he couldn't be happier. The man he loved so much was right against him, making his favourite coffee in his favourite mug; nothing could make him happier.

This, but with Stepdad!Simon Riley and his stepdaughter... (🌽 link)

;Being humped by your stepdad.

TW/CW: SMUT, STEPCEST, DUB-CON AGE DIFFERENCE/GAP (20s - 40s) — DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. MDNI 18+

At the end of the day, can you really blame your stepfather for his perversity? You prance around the house in tiny skirts and revealing dresses, wearing nothing but your panties and thongs beneath the fabric. Of course, Simon is eager to see more, to admire and touch that soft and wet pussy. To Simon, it feels as if what you're doing is purposeful, like you're riling him up. Perhaps you need to be taught a proper lesson on how to behave, yeah?

You're easy to coerce and convince. It doesn't take very long before Simon has you choking on your words and unable to defend and protect yourself, despite being taught by the best about your safety. You slowly and nervously lift your skirt up for him, ashamed of what you're going to do, or let Simon do. You're disgusted at the realisation and intrusive, horrifying thoughts rushing through your filthy mind, scarring you as Simon begins to slide himself into your folds, easing into the tightness of your cunt while pushing you against his big lap. He's secretive about it. He's learnt how to hide his gross touch beneath the dining table during dinners with your mother, questioning you about college to hear the shakiness in your voice, the way you barely manage to get the words out coherently. Only when she leaves to water the plants outside or finishes off the dishes does Simon have privacy with his beloved girl.

You're special to Simon, you give him energy and remind him of his younger days, when he was in his twenties, just like you. Although, he wasn't studying and working hard like his stepdaughter. Instead, he was out on the field, a shotgun in hand and his eyes locked on the enemy, staining his hands with another man's blood. Simon will bounce you up and down on his lap for a quickie while groaning out loudly and deeply beside your ear until you have shivers running down your spine.

Simon digs his teeth into your bare neck to leave scars and hickeys over your skin, grinding his broad hips back and forth while rubbing your clit rapidly, overstimulating you until you're biting your knuckle anxiously through horror and mortification. You have to act normal, keep your voice down as Simon rolls and rubs his swollen, puffy tip against your slick clit, until you're hyperventilating and attempting to close your legs through guilt. You breathe out shakily and grip his muscular thighs firmly, shutting your eyes tightly as you think about how you're betraying your mother's trust.

This isn't the first time Simon has taken advantage of you. It's a common occurrence, especially since you began college. All Simon craves is a young little thing like yourself to keep him young and fresh, to toy with you and take your submissiveness for granted, for his own benefit.

thank you for adding me!!!🫶🫶🫶

🖤 Best Simon "Ghost" Riley Fics On Tumblr 🖤

Part One • Part Two • Part Three • Part Four

♡ Fluff ♡

Let Simon Riley Cry 2024 ~ @themotherofhorses

OlderBf!Simon ~ @heavenbarnes

Pizza ~ @euno11a

This is... Love? [Smut] ~ @codtrashsammy

Marriage ~ @void-my-warranty

Smitten ~ @tojisun

He's Drunk :/ ~ @notspiders

Edibles ~ @httpsghostie

Viking!Simon [Dad!Simon] ~ @dante-mightdie

Can't Get It Up ~ @heavenbarnes

Can't Perform ~ @euno11a

Body Type ~ @oceantornadoo

Old Wound [Hurt/Comfort?] ~ @cntloup

Rough Mission ~ @lunarduty

when you first started your relationship with Simon, I honestly believe that he will wait until you’re asleep to link your pinkies together. This man cannot fall asleep without you touching him. And then as the relationship grows, he can fall asleep before you because he feels safe, but he has to be squeezing your pudge.

another total side note, if he ever gets uncomfortable in gathering areas, he will move straight to your side and almost like a child pull on the end of your sleeve and look away. The smallest amount of touch is comforting to him. He needs his love.

oof-

Now you’ve touched yourself, it’s kinda hard not to when you have an insatiably hot boyfriend. The relationship isn’t extremely new, maybe a few months in, but not new new. You both have had phone sex, needing that sudden release when he was out on deployment. But every time you touch yourself, you do it only to the point when you begin orgasming. Key word: begin.

the mutual masturbation has been common for you two since the beginning really, letting yourselves reach that amazing peak. So the first time you two got a little tipsy and felt that need growing a wet patch on your panties, Simon knew what to do.

he fingered you, stretching out your wet and gummy walls for him, making sure that you would be able to fit him in your tight cunt. His low, guttural groans did nothing good for you, making your clit throb and hole clench around his fingers.

“Fuck, look a’ you. Takin’ my fingers so fuckin well.”

he groaned into your neck, his hand picking up the pace. The wet sounds from your slick filled the room, making your hands link around his neck and pull yourself closer to him. The tight feeling you get before cumming getting closer and closer.

“Si- Simon! Almost…almost the- ah!” You squealed into his neck, thighs tightening around his hips that held your legs open for him. His fingers quickened again, rubbing that slightly rigid spot inside you that made you mewl loudly.

When your orgasm hit, you expected him to stop, just like you always did. But when he didn’t, you arched your back and reached down to grip his wrist. “Simon! N-no, too much!” You screamed after you felt another surge of pleasure, making him finally stop.

you felt him pull away slightly, looking down at his lower abdomen that was glistening with liquid. He looked back at you with a dark look in his eyes. “Didn’t take ya for a squirter, love.”

the heat rose to your cheeks, voice coming out slightly hoarse. “I haven’t…haven’t squirted before…”

a devious smirk made its way to his face before he leaned down.

“Lets see if I can do it again.”

nap time is the best

Having the window open as your bodies are pressed together with only a thin sheet covering each other. Simon resting his head on your chest as you lazily give him head scratches - debatably the best part of it all. The sound of the rain pattering on your bedroom window making you both sleepy.

the time being filled with soft kisses to each others lips and random naps, Simon falling asleep and you pressing soft kisses to the crown of his head while taking some picture of him to add to your hidden album in your phone…

as you fall asleep, Simon litters little kisses on your chest and whispers about how a big brute like him doesn’t deserve the love you give him. But he could never figure out how even in your sleep you could figure out he was talking bad about himself, your arms wrapping around him as you nuzzle into the top of his head.

the sloppy kisses. Having you propped up on him as you lazily kiss each other, not caring that either of your tongues are basically missing each other and just aiming everywhere else except there.

but the one thing that kills me - Simon can’t help but to hum “You Are My Sunshine” to you as you fall asleep. His low voice rumbling in your ear as he rocks you gently, reminding you that your his light that gets him through a tough day at work, or through a nightmare, or a reminder of what he was blessed with to come home to.

safe to say Simon “Ghost” Riley loves nap time.

I just ate the juiciest nectarine ever and the juices got all over my chin…ghost would def say something like

“It’s not nice to impersonate people, love. Especially after I made you cum so hard.”

or just really sloppily kiss you, running his tongue all over the juices across your mouth and chin, making sure to taste your tongue for more of those delicious juices.

ghost telling you you’ve always been his ‘marry’ when he gets randomly pulled into a game of ‘fuck, marry, kill.’

Serial killer! Simon Riley x afab!reader | for @softiecakess

Simon opened the door soundlessly, not wanting to wake you up if were asleep, he opened the refrigerator as he sat the strawberry ice cream tub in freezer, his eyes darted towards the doorway when he saw you, your blanket hoisted up like a cape. His smile broke into a grin when you rushed to him, jumping up in his lap and wrapping your legs around his waist, he twirled you around with a kiss in your hair, sniffing the warmth and a scent that screamed, home.

" you're home ! " You kissed his cheek, the skin under his eyes, his nose tip, his chin, the corner of mouth, twinkling as he bumped his nose to yours, warmth spreading and tingling under your skin.

" I am home." He whsipered, bringing your knuckles to his lips as he kissed each with tender and raw affection, you gaze dropped to his hands, his skin was scrapped. You frowned up at him, he exhaled softly.

" Where did you get them ? " You narrowed your eyes as he walked into bedroom, Simon shrugged it off with a hard kiss pressed to your mouth and all your thoughts vanished with the feel of his tongue prying it's way in you, his teeth nibbling softly on your soft lips, urging obscene noises from you. He placed you down on the soft bed with a delicate palm behind your neck, and held you there with his arms pinning your wrist above you head, your mouth arching up for more, more of him and his feel.

" Just a guy, nothing much." He kissed your your jaw as he left the words, trailing your skin, he never left any questions unanswered, never lied.

" Oh." You moaned, " You okay? not hurt— don't get into fights..ah," His hands slid under your shirt, gripping your soft warm flesh, " I don't want to see you hurt.." it came shaky and almost lost when Simon's mouth curved in delight, he pulled your shirt above your head, giving your wrist a break.

" ofcourse princess." He kissed your collarbone, looking deep into your eyes as he lowered his mouth to catch your hardened nipple between his lips, his eyes dazzling as you arched back, panting his name, again and again and again.

_

" Strawberry or chocolate ? " He cocked his lips, watching you with a devouring hunger, hands shuffling in the drawer.

" Strawberry...." You dazed, your cheeks warm and flushed as Simon bent down to kiss your sweaty forehead.

" I knew it babe." He chuckled, like he knew something you didn't.

Masterlist

a small moment

he realizes he loves you

tw// nsfw implied/mentioned and unedited

she was the only one who could catch simon by surprise.

knocking at his room door at two in the morning in pajama bottoms with a bottle of bourbon in one hand and a tablet in the other… you were a strange one. so small and yet chaotic. gruffly, “what do ya want?”

with a sickly sweet smile, she lifts the bottle up. “wanna drink with me?”

“its half past two a.m.”

“okay, and?”

twenty minutes after, you were both sat on the headboard with her tablet propped up on a pillow playing a show shes been wanting to watch but hadn’t gotten around to yet. simon had questions he wanted to ask to help understand why she came and why she wanted to be there with him. he was used to being feared and not familiar with… whatever this was.

he looked over and examined her, trying to find answers in her expressions rather than her words.

she was pretty. stupidly so. it was unfair really. adorable and persistent. buzzing around wherever he went like a bee lured in by nectar in a sweet smelling flower. so pretty with that little pout on her lips as she watched whatever the fuck she put on. he was more drawn in to how her eyebrows scrunched together and her eyes filled with pools of feeling that he couldn’t understand. but strangely he wanted to try to understand. he wanted to understand her and this need to touch her. not just kiss down her belly and make her whimper and writhe but to hold her. keep her warm, safe, fed. try to understand her unpredictability. he wanted to tell her but he couldn’t help but think that she knew. why else would she be here?

but her eyes look at him and catch his blank stare. hes warm beneath the balaclava. “you okay?” she doesn’t know. if she did then she would know he isn’t. he isn’t and he needs more bourbon. he isn’t and he needs her closer.

instead he hums. and he says yes. because at least she’s here.

So I started crying real hard

Tic-Tac-Toe

based on this!! amazing ask!!

.. -. / - …. . / -. .- -- . / --- ..-. / --. --- -..

To look at and to listen to is one things, something that would click immediately within your mind if you had seen it- however, to feel it is something you weren't fully aware you could do. Small taps on your thigh when you would be sitting next to him in the mess hall, laughing to one of Johnny's absurd jokes. Feeling the dashes on the palm of your hand as you walked through the corridors on slow nights.

- --- / -... . / -- .. -. .

Sure you had always known that the Simon Riley had a hard time saying things, he was a flirt to the random girls at the bar but to the people he truly cared about; it was like stumbling through a sentence was the easiest thing for him. So you had resigned to accept his nonverbal acts of affection. Allowing yourself to be content with soft kisses in lieu of words.

- --- / .... .- ...- . / .- -. -.. / - --- / .... --- .-.. -..

It wasn't that he was unaffectionate, quite the opposite, it was that he couldn't show it how he so deeply wanted to. The words would get caught in his throat and they would come out a half kidding banter, like a dig into the psyche. All the same, what he felt for you was something so deep and profound that not even he could dare put it into words. So he would maybe whisper them against your skin when he knew you were too asleep to even know he was awake, he would let his touch linger.

..-. --- .-. / -... . - - . .-. / .- -. -.. / ..-. --- .-. / .-- --- .-. ... .

You didn't think much of the taps, you summed it up to a nervous tic, or maybe something he found comforting. After all, since before you had been dating you always knew he liked to be moving some part of his body, if it be rubbing that frayed edge of his jacket or lightly tapping the palm of your hand.

- --- / .-.. --- ...- .

It didn't click, how he would climb into bed after a long day and how his hand would almost mindlessly move on its own, tapping the skin of your hip as he tried to squeeze into you as if you would vanish if he didn't. You didn't realize the important of the faint kisses on the nape of your neck and how they were oh so perfectly timed to be some sort of code.

Until it was a code.

.- -. -.. / - --- / -.-. .... . .-. .. ... ....

" Hol on, Hol on, /m gettin somthin."

You look to Johnny from where you were currently desperately trying to fix the radio, the thick smog limiting your sight and the burn of the gas in your lungs making it hard to breathe. With a heaved breath you push yourself up to stand and then sink back to your knees where Johnny had been trying to see if the truck's radio worked- a mission gone south left you and heseparatedd from Simon, leaving him in the building.

It was silent until the beeping came over the radio and it...felt sofamiliarr yet you couldn't place your hand on it, it was like a deja-vu feeling within your gut- "It's morse code- God, I forgot that was still a thing."

Johnny looks up at you and then gives you a weak laugh, "Yea, hol' on," as he spoke he took out a pen and paper and began to scribble down the dashes and lines.

"Think it's him?"

"He's tha' only un' tha' knows it."

..- -. - .. .-.. / -.. . .- - .... / .--. .- .-. - ... / ..- ...

"Johnny?" It had taken the man a few seconds to write down the repeating message, then a few more to translate it.

"Johnny is it him? Is he okay?"

There was no silence, the hiss of the storm raging outside and the faint roar of gunfire from the battle you had just been ordered to flee. Yet everything was so slow, he wasn't speaking, he looked almost sorrowful.

.. / .-.. --- ...- . / -.-- --- ..- --..--/ ... --- / -- ..- -.-. .... / -.. --- ...- .

"He loves you. He said he loves you so much."

.. .----. -- / ... --- -.- -.- -.--

"He's sorry."

(annnnway thats all! any feedback, comments or ideas you got trust me I wanna hear them! <333)

(Office tv show interview)

simon: no yeah I am wildly in love with them, I will die for them

(cuts scene to parking lot, to where Simon playfully shoves Reader, but they fall face first anyway. And Simon just stares at the ground for a minute and then makes eye contact with the camera)

(cut scene)

Simon: do I think they know? Oh yeah, wear my heart on ma fucking sleeve. (Cuts to Johnny)

Johnny, after listening to the interviewer: …LT has emotions?

(um…yeah idk what this is. Jus a goofy lil idea)

Tattoos Tell A Story part 2

Part 1 here, Part 3 here

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

Summary: You decide to give Ghost a taste of his own medicine

Warnings: None?, Some kissing??, FLUFF, Ghost being bby gurl

A/n: This was requested by @v1naco . I hope I did your wonderful idea justice! Also how the heck did this end up so long??

You would like to make one thing clear.

You love watching Simon get tattoos.

Not only is his deliciously huge arm on full display, but the way his muscles flex when the needle hit a particularly sensitive part of his arm?

Oh you were down bad.

Yes you know he’s technically in pain but come onnn-

He had wanted to get the date of one of his most recent victorious mission tattooed on the inside of his bicep.

What kind of mission was it? You weren’t sure, you know, with it being “classified” and all.

He told you in secret at home

Once told of his plans, you had immediately accepted to tag along and boy are you glad you did. Originally it was for the purpose of just spending as much time with your boyfriend as possible, but you didn’t realize it’d be such a sight.

“Enjoying the view there sweetheart?”

You startle slightly, flicking your eyes away from his arm to Ghost’s masked face. You know there’s a smirk hiding under there somewhere.

Cocky bastard

You clear your throat, repositioning in your seat slightly ,”Uh, no I-I was just….. admiring Jackson’s handiwork.” You claim.

Simon looks you up and down,“Mhm, whatever you say love.”

Jackson, the tattoo artist, just chuckles at the couples antics, eyes never leaving his work.

Ghost knew Jackson pretty well due to him having worked on most of his arm sleeve. He was the only artist in the area that would agree to the service of a scarily large man in a sketchy skull mask and hood, the others immediately declined as soon as he stepped through the door, some even reaching for their phone in a concealed panic. Not that they could really be blamed for their hesitance. He is pretty intimidating if you didn’t know him.

Your eyes now purposefully wander anywhere around the parlor except Simon. You would not be giving him the pleasure of catching you gawking again.

Your gaze skims over a variety of stencils hung on the walls. You never minded the idea of getting a tattoo yourself, you were just too indecisive to ever settle on one.

But maybe one of Jackson’s will stick out to me, you think as you exam the references pinned to the wall

Maybe a bird?

Or a moon?

Possibly a flower?

Oo, that bunny’s pretty cute.

Maybe a-

Wait

Is that-

You squint your eyes to see it clearer, before they quickly widen again

It is

You can’t help the slight maniacal smirk that overtakes your face

That one’s perfect

-+-

It had been about a week since the tattoo parlor and honestly? You had almost forgotten about the whole thing. Simon had still yet to notice your skins new…..addition. You’d think a military man would be more observant.

Although, in your boyfriends defense, it was so small and in such a hidden place that even you yourself had a hard time seeing it.

You and Ghost were in the kitchen together, him in charge of the noodles while you made the sauce. Normally y’all would just order some take-out, but you both decided to try something new. Neither you or him were five star chefs by any means, only able to follow along to a recipe. A very detailed recipe.

You were leaning over the stove just trying to stir the ingredients though your hair obviously did not get the memo. No matter what you did, tucking it behind your ear, blowing it back with your mouth, it just would not get out of your face.

You pull a strand in front of you, eyes almost crossing from it being so close, and glared at it as if it had personally offended you.

I swear to gosh, one day I’m just gonna freaking shave all of it off-

“Here,” comes a distinctly deep, British voice from behind. When had he gotten over here?,”Let me.”

You feel the strands of hair get pulled gently from your grasp as he gradually gathers it all into one extremely large hand. He gingerly rakes his fingers through your locks, eliminating any knots or lumps. Using the hair band from his wrist, where did he get that from?, he joins all of it into a ponytail.

You’re kinda sad to feel his fingers retreat from your scalp.

You run a hand over your head, examining his work. You’re fairly surprised to feel that there’s only a small hump or two.

“Hm, not bad for a man with sandpaper hands.” You jest with a smile.

You don’t get a response

The sound of breathing coming from behind tells you he hasn’t moved either.

“Simon?” You question, turning to look over your shoulder.

The man in question was standing stock still, you’d think he was a mannequin if not for his chest moving up and down. His gaze zeroed in on your ear.

You instinctively raise a hand to the spot in question, and that’s when it finally dawns on you.

He’s not looking at your ear.

No, he’s looking behind it.

You smile

So your little game of spot the difference was finally over.

“You like it?” You ask smugly

Simon doesn’t know what to say, just eye’s the nape of your neck in bewilderment. This was absolutely not here before. Where your skin was previously unblemished, now contains a tattoo about the size of his thumb.

A skull tattoo.

“When did you get this?” He asks instead, finger coming up to rub over it, almost as if he thinks it’s fake, thinks that the ink will smudge under his thumb.

“‘Bout a week ago.” You admit with a shrug, trying to be nonchalant about it.

His eyes finally shift to your face,”And you didn’t tell me?”

You shoot him an unimpressed look, grabbing his arm that contains the tattoo of your name and pushing it in his face,”Hypocritical much?”

He looks from his arm, to your tattoo, then to your face, as if he was putting together a puzzle.

“Is the tattoo an expression of love or a ploy of revenge?” He asks with suspicion.

You shrug, a smile gracing the corner of your mouth,”Can’t it be both?”

He eyes you for a moment, shaking his head in exasperation, but you could of swore his eyes lit in amusement.

Oh!

You about forgot something!

“Did you notice any details about it, a letter perhaps?” You question coyly.

No he hadn’t

He gently grips your chin to turn it to the side, dipping his head a little to get a closer look.

Oh.

He can see it now.

There’s a few cracks on the side of the skull and , if he looks close enough, he can see that they join to make a letter.

S

“Does tha-does that stand for-“

“Simon? Yeah, yeah it does.”

He stands there, just silently rubbing your tattoo again for a moment. You’re not complaining though, you’re just soaking in his touch. His fingers feel good.

You clear your throat, gently taking a hold of the hand rubbing your neck,”So? You like i-“

You’re cut off by him surging forward, capturing you in a kiss.

Definitely worth the pain of the needle.

-*-

You were both laying in bed after supper, your stomachs full. Full of take-out, not home cooked pasta because you may or may not have gotten distracted and singed the noodles and turned the toast to basically charcoal.

You were in a spooning position, his large arms wrapped around your waist, mask finally taken off in the darkness of your room.

“You know,” He breaks the silence,”I really do appreciate it, the tattoo.”

“Thought it was only fair. You know, with you getting one for me and all.” Your voices are soft, just whispers in the night.

“You know you didn’t have to do it, right? Not just cause I did.” Anyone that didn’t know Simon would judge from his gruff voice that he was bored or uninterested, maybe even irritated. But you did know him, which means you easily pick up on even the slightest hint of hesitation in his voice.

Your brows furrow,”That’s not the only reason I got it.”

When you receive only silence you look over your shoulder at him, “You know that, right?” You ask as if it was obvious. You thought it was.

Once again, you receive only silence. You really wish it wasn’t so dark so you could read his expressions.

You shift your body so that you’re fully facing him.

“Hey,” you reach for the hand around you’re waist and hold it to your chest,”You know I love you right?”

“Yeah?” You don’t like that he sounds so hesitant.

“Simon,” you make sure he knows you’re serious,”I love you. You’re the only person I ever want to love, and I don’t plan on letting you go anytime soon, and I sure as heck ain’t planning going anywhere anytime soon. So why wouldn’t I want evidence of you on my body?” You use your other hand to cup his cheek.

The breath he lets out sounds shaky, letting you know your little speech hit him right in the way you wanted it to. You can’t see anything but the outline of his figure, though you swear you can feel his gaze piercing you.

He brings the hand you’re not holding to rub the spot behind your ear where you know his initial lies.

“I love you too,” He confesses on a quivering exhale.

You slowly lean in for a kiss, not quite sure where his lips are in the dark but somehow hitting them almost perfectly the first try, almost as if it was second nature to you now. That’s something you never really felt before Simon. Sure you had locked lips with other guys but you never knew there could be such emotion in just a kiss. With him, it’s almost like your minds, as well as your lips, are closely connected for that moment. You can feel the love, the passion, the joy, all of it with just a touch of mouths.

Ghost is the one to break it first, breath fanning over your face as he speaks,”I just have one question.”

“Hm?” Your mind is still frazzled by that short intense make out session.

“Was it when I went to the bar with Johnny that Friday?”

Your mind slowly catches on to what he’s saying, letting out a small giggle. That’s confirmation enough for him.

“And you said you were just gonna have a lazy night in?” His fake anger makes your giggles worse.

“You went to the stinking parlor instead didn’t you?”

You don’t even know why this has tickled you so badly, but soon Simon’s own deep chuckles join yours.

He pulls you into his chest, “Sneaky girl.”

You two just laugh harder

I just read your tattoos tell a Story and I got a random idea (also i love your writing) but I can see reader being friends with soap and while ghost is out on a mission (maybe solo or something) the two get a classic best friend tattoo

if you wanna use this go ahead just thought i would share

also, you dropped this 👑

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader, John “Soap” Mactavish x reader(platonic only).

Warnings: Short intense make out session at the beginning, other than that?, fluff?, some swearing but it’s sensored.

A/n: Your comment honestly made my day🥰 thank you so much for this wonderful idea!

“Mm, I missed you.” You admit, pulling Ghost in for another kiss not caring that your breath hasn’t caught up from the last.

“Missed you too darlin’. So much.” He breathes in between pecks, grip firm on your waist. Pulling you in as if no bodily contact was enough for him. And that’s saying a lot considering how much bodily contact was occurring between you. Almost no part of your entire being was deprived of his touch at the moment. Thighs pressed against thighs, stomach against stomach, chest against chest. Not even a hair could fit in the space your bodies do not fill.

Your hands hold tightly to the short locks of his hair, black balaclava being removed in the privacy of his room in the 141’s base. Simon is starting to realize just how much he loves your hands there.

His kisses begin trailing downward, first your neck, somehow immediately hitting that pulse point that makes you squirm, before trailing lower, down your shoulder, bicep, inner elbow, forearm. He’s so thorough you’d think he was trying to memorize your whole anatomy, he probably is. Until abruptly, he stops.

You slowly blink away the haze your mind has been trapped in, confused by his mouths disappearance. “Si?”

He slowly lifts your arm by its wrist, straightening up from where he was bent slightly over.

“Whas’ this? Wasn’ here before.” And that’s when you realize what he’s looking at, the tattoo, placed towards the bottom of your forearm. You don’t know why, but for a quick second you’re worried that he might be mad about the change you made to your body without his permission. Past trauma you’d guess. But a quick look at his face and a survey of his tone tells you he’s not irritated at all, just curious. Of course he wouldn’t be, it’s Simon.

With the now known knowledge that he’s okay with it, you start to get giddy. A huge toothy smile overtaking your face. All heat from the rather intense make out session completely forgotten in the face of your excitement.

“I forgot we hadn’t told you about that!”

“We?” He questions with furrowed brows, though you ignore him.

You grab the balaclava from his bed, “Here put this on.” You shove it over his head, earning a huff from him as he had to adjust it from where it awkwardly covered his eyes, “It’d be easier if I just showed you.” All of 141 has already seen his face, though you know he’s more comfortable with it on.

You grab his hand, not allowing him time for any more questions before dragging him out the door and down the hall, until you reach the door you were looking for.

Simons head turns towards you,”Why are we at Mactavish’s room?” He asks in suspicion. What had you two idiots done?

You give him a mischievous smile and knock on the door, receiving a distinctly Irish “come in.”

You waste no time in busting through the door. Soap’s sitting on his bed watching some kind of cheesy cooking show, to which Ghost gives a slightly amused smirk under the mask. He’ll definitely be hearing about that later.

“Lt., y/n. To wha’ do I owe th-“ You don’t even let him finish the sentence

“You haven’t showed him?” You hold up your arm for emphasis.

He immediately knows what you mean,”Would’ve, if he wouldn’t of bloody left all of us for his “solo mission”.”

You both know he’s just poking fun, though it still earns him a glare from your boyfriend. Soap glares back, buts it’s all in good nature. At least you think it is.

You roll your eyes, “Alright boys, lets stop comparing sizes shall we?”

You’re not sure about Ghost, but Soap blushes and turns his head away sheepishly. Ghost does too.

“Now, back to the important stuff.” You turn towards Johnny,”Arm, now.” You demand, giving him a “come here” motion.

He leaps off the bed, rolling up his sleeve as he walks up to you with a slight childish skip to his step. He holds out his arm as if it’s show and tell. You do the same with yours. You look at each other, a sh*t-eating grin on both your faces as you try to contain your child-like giggles, before turning to gouge Simon’s reaction.

He stares at your conjoined arms with that same expressionless look to his eyes. He looks back up, flicking his gaze between you two.

There’s a tense silence.

Until

“What the f*ck is that?”

And that’s the drop of water that breaks the dam. You and Soap absolutely loose it, laughing so hard you can’t see through your tears. Forced to lean on each other for support when your knees become too weak.

“Come on Lt., ya know it’s f*ckin’ funny.” Johnny wheezes in between belted laughs, lightly patting your back.

“Yeah Si!”

He completely ignores your taunts, shaking his head as if scolding children,”Idiots, the lot of you.” He says it light enough to where you’re not worried he’s actually annoyed, before turning to leave, closing the door behind him, successfully cutting off Mactavish’s, “Ah come on Ghost, live a l-“

And if he lets out a little amused huff when he shuts the door, well, Johnny never has to know.

-+-

Later that night, in the dark safety of your own bedroom, in which Simon is staying the night, you hear a slight rumble from his side of the bed. Your eyes snap open, afraid he’s having a nightmare of some sort. Wouldn’t be the first time. Slowly, as to not startle him, you turn towards him with practiced ease, prepared to gently calm him from his panic as you always do. Until you see his expression in the dim moonlight coming from your window, eyes catching on the white of his teeth.

“You’re laughing.” You state incredulously.

“No I’m not.” He defends as if you can’t see him chuckling right in front of you

You can’t help but smile, his joy infectious,”Yes, you are. Why are you laughing?”

For a second he just continues on, not answering, until he calms himself down enough to get out-,”That d*mn tattoo.” Before desolving in deep chuckles again.

His explanation gets you tickled, so, you join him in his amusement, your laughter making his worse and vice versa. It goes on for several minutes. Just as one of you start to quiet down and you think it’s over, the other will start again, setting them both off once more

Finally, you both quiet your laughs into something softer, catching your breath.

“I knew you liked it.” You both bust into booming laughter again, even louder this time.

Heads thrown back against your pillows, your laughter descended on into the late of night.